Exiles
by RTVfan
Summary: After his beloved godfather dies, a depressed Harry Potter jumps into The Veil at the Department of Mysteries, only to find himself in a new universe. A mysterious, astonishing, marvelous new universe.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: The Next Great Adventure

"I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK!" Bellatrix Lestrange cackled madly as she raced along the Ministry floor like a little girl on a sugar high, Harry Potter giving chase just a few scant feet behind her. Harry noted that for a middle aged woman who spent the better part of two decades in Azkaban, she was a fast runner.

The Boy Who Lived had just moments earlier witnessed his godfather being killed at the hands of this sycophantic monster with black curly hair, this utterly repulsive racist and killer, this three-quarters mad scoundrel. And yet, Harry had more on his mind than just revenge. He had something worse boiling underneath his psyche. This past year, his fifteenth year of life and his fifth as a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it had made Harry realize the tragedy of his life, and that he wanted to die.

Harry didn't need thirteen reasons why, he needed one. His life was a nightmare. He had friends and family, but in his despair, he felt deep down that they weren't enough to defeat the anguish and pain that dominated his mind. If anything, they were obstacles that he wanted to shove out of the way.

When Harry had been first introduced to the Wizarding World on his eleventh birthday, he had found joy. He had discovered wonder and amazement for the first time, a supernatural escape from his menial real life. His life a mere five years ago had been an endless torrent of abuse at the hands of his so called aunt and uncle, the gluttonous bastards who underfed and underclothed him, mocked him and dehumanized him, beat him down physically and mentally. More important than magic and free ice cream sundaes at Florean Fortescue's however, he had found real familial love in the Wizarding World. His friends Ron and Hermione were truer companions than anyone could ever ask for. As the cliché went, they were thicker than thieves, and nothing, not death itself, would ever separate them. Ron's family, the Weasley's, had all but adopted Harry into their red-headed clan, and he considered Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to be his surrogate parents. He was the most famous boy in Wizarding Britain, beloved by almost everyone. He was a celebrity, and not to be too modest, his own late parents had left him a sizable inheritance, making him quite a rich young man.

But then Harry met Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley and realized that life is cold and cruel, even the Wizarding World. Wizards, for all their talents, were just as corrupt, selfish, and evil as Muggles were. In fact they were worse, as what is worse than a bully? A bully with powers. Draco Malfoy and his venal father and mother had proved that even with magic, there was still an unavoidable class system, and that bullies still stamped their boots on the necks of those weaker than they regardless of whether you had a magic wand in your pocket. One of his teachers, Professor Snape, had it out for poor Harry from day one, get this, out of a childish "sins of the father" vendetta. Snape hated Harry's biological father James, and Snape took every opportunity to rub in his vicarious contempt for the boy. To make things worse, a group that could only be described as terrorists, the Death Eaters, had put a mark on poor Harry's head. In five years, there had been multiple attempts on his life by the Death Eaters. The leader of these band of tyrants, Lord Voldemort, had murdered Harry's friend Cedric Diggory in cold blood right in front of him at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year. Harry never told anybody, but seeing Cedric's dead body, and being forced to hold onto his cold lifeless corpse so it could not be claimed as an Inferi had traumatized Harry more than any beating from his cousin Dudley ever could. He would have cried himself to sleep every night, but he wasn't allowed to display emotions at home.

This year had been the worst. An utterly contemptible bitch named Umbridge had taken over the school by decree of the Ministry of Magic. His mentor Albus Dumbledore had abandoned him to the abuses of her as well as those of Professor Snape during his legilimancy lessons. And lets not forget the hassles of dealing a libelous press who besmirched Harry's name at every turn, as well as Harry being constantly being kept in the dark on his summer holidays. Harry knew why he was being kept off balance like this. It was so he was easier to control in his fate-bound battle against Voldemort. Dumbledore was using him as a pawn to defeat the madman. It was hideous, the manipulations that old man Dumbledore had done against him. Enough to where Harry wanted to lash out.

"I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK! COME AND GET ME!" cackled the mad old witch once again, and it was the instant after that insane repetitive shriek when Harry had finally decided upon what he wanted to do with the final minutes of his life. It was impulsive and selfish. He knew that he would regret it, that there would be repercussions both long term and immediate, that is if he had been planning to live. If he weren't suicidal, Harry would probably lose everything from doing what he was about to do. His freedom, his friends, the trust of Albus Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, and perhaps most of all, his soul. But something deep inside him, perhaps Lord Voldemort himself, told him that it needed to be done. He raised his wand...

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A bolt of verdant light erupted from Harry's wand, striking Bellatrix dead on the spot.

At first he couldn't believe he had actually done it.

Harry casually walked over to inspect her body, bending down carefully over the insane woman's body, looking for any signs of life. Her skin was still warm, but there was no pulse coming from her wrists or her chest, and the pallor of the witch's face described perfectly clear that she was no longer alive. It was then as he got up when he heard the most dreaded of voices.

" _Well done, Harry"_ said a cold, clear voice inside of him. _"And you actually meant it. I wasn't expecting that."_

"SHUT UP!" shouted Harry out loud, sounding insane himself.

A smirking apparition, a white ghost of a floating head drifted into Harry's purview, coalescing like an angry star until the full body of Lord Voldemort was corporeally present.

Harry, emboldened by his actions, immediately tried to cast the killing curse on Mr. Riddle, but Mr. Riddle immediately threw Harry's wand aside with a casual wave of his own potent magic.

"So weak my boy, and yet..."

Voldemort's villain monologue could not be finished as both he and Harry saw a green light coming from one of the many entrances of the Ministry. A moment later, the cavalry had arrived, upright and confident in his moral and magical superiority. He nonchalantly looked over at Harry with false concern.

"Oh dear, the savior of all Wizarding England Albus Dumbledore is here to save the day, Potter. Whatever shall we do?" asked Riddle teasingly to his young enemy.

"It was foolish of you to come tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on their way" spat Dumbledore piously.

A defiant Riddle made one last caustic comment before readying himself for the duel to end all duels. A fight that would make Dumbledore vs Gellert Grindlewald look like two overgrown boys roughhousing with each other.

"By which time I shall be gone, and you..."

He made a flourish with his wand.

"...shall be dead."

Thus began yet another battle for the ages, the latest in a long line of pyrotechnic light shows as a battle of wills between good and evil commenced. Harry merely tried to avoid being seen by either bastard until he could run away, softly scurrying into the darkness of the Ministry like the world's largest mouse. By the grace of Merlin, he succeeded, though that may have been because the Headmaster was currently dealing with anthropomorphic fiendfyre.

Harry quietly sneaked into a side entrance of the Department of Mysteries and religiously approached the Veil. Touching the stony edges with his hand, he stared deep into the swirling blue and gray mist that some wizards believe is the border between life and death itself. Harry laughed cynically to himself. Lots of things might count as the border between life and death. For instance, a jealous husband's fist. A dead man's curve. A banana peel on a wet frictionless floor. He was so lost in his own despair that he hadn't heard the loud steps behind him.

"Harry? Be careful. You know what they say about those who gaze into the abyss for too long."

It took Harry a second to decipher who the voice could belong to. It carried a compassionate albeit harried tone. He turned around and smiled. 'Mione always made him feel better, if only for a moment.

"Very funny, Hermione, but I've had to share my head-space with a homicidal maniac for fifteen years now and still turned out OK. I don't think the abyss is going to gaze back into me anytime soon."

"Still, Sirius just died. I know how important he was to you, and I don't want you to get any funny ideas about jumping inside the Veil to rescue him. Now come on, we gotta get over here."

The fighting between Dumbledore and Voldemort in the next room was intensifying. Booming supernatural sounds were echoing everywhere, with shards of glass blowing into the room. Purple and green shadows could be seen flickering on the walls.

"Where is everybody?" asked Harry, half between caring and not caring.

"Professor Lupin is taking everybody home, and that includes us. He's in the Brain Room. Now come on, lets _go_."

Hermione was gently but forcibly grabbing Harry's wrist with her hand, attempting to drag him along into the Brain Room as if he were a small child and she were his mother.

"Harry, are you crazy?" she asked impertinently, turning around to see Harry staring again at the Veil. She momentarily let go of Harry in her confusion, but immediately pulled back onto his arm once she saw that he was beginning to run into the archway.

"Harry!" she screeched, terrified. "The Death Eaters are all in custody. We're safe for once. You don't need to do this" she pleaded. She looked at her dear friend, her _best_ friend, with all of the love she could spare in her eyes. "Harry, please. Things are going to get better."

"No they aren't" he replied, forcible removing Hermione's grip and sprinting into the next great adventure.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Thanks for all of the follows/favorites and reviews, guys! XOXO_

 ** _CHAPTER 1: The First Day Of the Rest of Your Life_**

 _Lord I'm one, Lord I'm two, Lord I'm three, Lord I'm four,_

 _Lord I'm 500 miles from my home._ _  
_ _500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles,_ _  
_ _Lord I'm five hundred miles from my home._

 _\- 500 Miles by Peter, Paul & Mary_

2012

 _Galadorian Superior Court, Sector 979_

The Honorable Judge Grok Al-Faverway presided over the immaculate courtroom, his venerable presence dominating everyone as he peered down at the four defendants and their two-bit attorney with unveiled disdain. The four of them were residents of the Andromeda Galaxy, members of the infamous Ravagers crime syndicaye of thieves, pirates, and mercanaries. Led by Yondu Udonta, his clan of Ravagers had recently stolen over one hundred and forty million units worth of military and medical equipment from a Nova Corps naval shipyard, and had been selling it off all over the galaxy. While the majority of the Ravagers active in the theft had either been killed in action or managed to elude capture, the four standing here in his courtroom were considered the masterminds behind the plot, and each had surrendered peacefully once they were apprehended.

Faverway tapped his fingers on his ancient judicial desk out of a nervous habit he has maintained since childhood. After another moment waiting for the courtroom to settle down, he finally turned to the jury forewoman Ariane Cemalub.

"I believe that you have reached a verdict, forewoman. Lets have it."

"Yes, your Honor. We find the defendants Peter Quill, Yondu Udonta, Kraglin Obfonteri, and Tullk Ul-Zyn guilty on all counts of theft, as well as four counts of possession of a deadly weapon, one count of attempted bribery of a public official, one count of..."

It took a full minute for the forewoman to finish announcing all of the defendants crimes. We she was finished, Ariane Cemalub stood silent, nervous and sweating slightly. It had been a long trial.

Faverway glared at Ariane for a moment before speaking to her with a folksy twang in his voice.

"Thank you. You may sit down now", and she did.

Faveryway then turned his direction back to the defendants in front of him.

"Before I sentence you four, I want you all to realize the gravity of what you have done. It is amoral thugs like yourselves who allow power mad despots such as Thanos the Mad Titan and terrorists like Ronan the Accuser to flourish. None of you may care where the stolen equipment that you sold will end up, but when it inevitably comes into the hands of evil people, and it _will,_ remember that it will be used to torture, enslave, and oppress sentient life all over the universe. I'm looking especially at you, Mr. Udonta, who I am aware was born into slavery. You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

Not a one among the defendants so much as blinked at Faverway's condemnation.

"Secondly, and this is more for the jury and gallery's benefit than yours, but the society of Galador has had the privilege for many generations to forget about what desperation looks like. Take a wide look at the defendants, folks, because this is it. This is what happens when civilization does not care about the welfare of its citizens. While crime sadly still exists on this planet, and hopelessness rears its ugly head in the darkest pockets of our culture once in a blue moon, we have collectively created what I consider to be one of the greatest societies in history. We were one of the first to achieve post-scarcity. One of the first to elect a Prime Director of a species not native to its home planet. One of the first achieve sapience, and one of the first to openly exchange goods and services with the wider galactic community. On this planet, we have what somebody with a bigger ego than I might call a utopia. It is a great shame that none of you had had the good fortune to be born here, otherwise. I—wait, what was that Mr. Quill?"

"Nothing" said Peter sheepishly.

"I saw you mutter something underneath your breath. Please, Mr. Quill, you've already been found guilty. There's no need to make things worse for yourself. Now, what was it you said?"

The defense attorney subtly elbowed Peter in the ribs.

"Fine" sighed Peter. "I said 'Who died and made you Andy Griffith?'".

Faverway looked puzzled for a moment. "Andy Griffith? I-Oh, yes. That must be a Terran reference. Well, Mr Quill, if Andy Griffith is as handsome and as fair with the law as I am, than I invite the comparison. Now, as I was saying, Galador is a peaceful planet. We believe in open borders and free trade with other cultures, but one thing we do not import are criminals. However, as I am a fan of rehabilitation, of giving second chances, and an even bigger fan of utilizing people's talents whomever they may be, I will not do the cruel thing and extradite you back to the Nova Corps so you can rot in some poorly regulated and dangerous jail. On the contrary. I will be giving you all cushy jobs that will pay a fair wage. I hereby sentence the four of you to be impounded for fifty months at The Keep. You will assist our fine citizens in uniform maintain the space station and help protect Galador, as well as the rest of civilization I reckon, from the augural presence of the Black Sun. Minus time already served, Mr. Obfonteri will only served forty-six months. Guards, please escort these gentlemen away. Jury, I would like to thank you for a job well done on such a difficult trial. Court is adjourned."

Peter, Yondu, Kraglin, and Tullk were handcuffed and ordered to follow the stoic, buzz cut adorned security guard through a side entrance down a long, ostentatious hallway.

"Lets lay low in the Golden Galaxy, he said. Nobody will know we're here, he said" whined Peter as he walked in a straight single file line with his Ravager companions to the holding ship which would send them to their doom.

"Shut up, boy. You're the one that falls in love with every vagina with a pair of legs that walks in your general direction!" cried another voice, that of Yondu, Peter's surrogate father.

"First of all, I wasn't in love with her, I resent that, and second, how was I supposed to know she was an undercover cop?!"

"Dummy, identifying law enforcement is one of the first things I taught you! Doesn't your peckerwood Terran head know how to memorize anything but stupid Earth songs? I knew that we should of eaten you when you were a kid. Damn me and my big soft heart!"

"The heart that's black and corroded from about sixty years worth of booze and smoke? You didn't recognize her for what she was either, smart guy!"

"Guys, please lets not fight" offered a gentle Kraglin. "Peter, it's not your fault that Yondu's been going easy on you all these years."

"Hey!" shouted Peter. "Kraglin, how could you? We're Poker buddies!"

"I remember Peter, but I'm First Mate to Yondu first, and he gets first dibs. I always side with Yondu before anybody else. Even my own mother, if I had one that is."

"Aww. Be still my heart" joked Peter.

"Do you having anything funny to say, Tullk?" asked Yondu, looking backwards at him.

"No" said Tullk quietly.

"Ah. The strong, silent type. Good. Stay that way."

In the giant hen house that was the Ravagers, the rumor mill opined that Tullk Ul-Zyn was perhaps the most dangerous and feared member of them all, but Tullk himself always remained tightlipped about it. The insane adventures he was allegedly been involved in during his long lifetime were up for debate. The only thing that was known for sure was that he was loyal to Yondu.

"Geez, you're in a jumpy mood today. It's like it's the first time you've been arrested or something" wondered Peter.

"First offense on Galador!".

"Yondu is just nervous because he doesn't have his fin and Yaka Arrow" surmised Kraglin diplomatically. "Just like how you're pissed that they took your Earth music player."

"A Walkman."

"Don't you worry, boy, we're getting it all back soon enough. So who's that Andy Griffith fella you were yammering about in the courtroom?" asked Yondu to Peter.

"Just an actor from this TV show my Mom and I used to watch. It was about this small Earth town called Mayberry. Galador reminds me a lot of Mayberry" said Peter as the four Ravagers exited the domed courthouse to the first floor spaceport.

"Everybody's just so happy and nice here. I don't get it."

They were marched to the spaceship that would transport them to their new home in the Dark Nebula. All around them were literal streets paved with gold and joyous citizens clothed in what looked like togas from a distance. The architecture of the capital city of Galador was massive and awe inspiring, like every ultra-advanced society that Peter's mom had showed him in her old comic books.

"It's like the worst problems anybody here has is whether people will enjoy Aunt Bee's kerosene pickles."

 **HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP**

When Harry Potter had jumped through the Veil, he was expecting the sweet embrace of death. Oblivion. Moksha. Nirvana if he wanted to be pretentious about it. No migration of the soul. No tunnel and bright light. No Last Judgement. Just...nothing. Maybe a brief chat and a handshake with DEATH with a capital D, in a Terry Pratchett sort of way, before riding off into the eternal sunset, but that was the extent of what Harry had hoped for. If Tom Riddle and Harry were diametric opposites in every way, with Riddle wanting to last forever and ever in the material realm, Harry had long wanted to just get this damn life over with, his willpower having long been sapped from his body.

It was to Harry's disappointment that this was not the case.

You know that funny moment when you're asleep, dreaming of falling, and just before you reach the ground, you suddenly wake up with a sudden jolt? That's called a "hypnic jerk". Hermione Granger had once told Harry Potter and Ron Weasley that piece of trivia during one of their group reseach sessions on the Chamber of Secrets in their second year in the Hogwarts library. That fateful moment when Harry jumped through the Veil and into the great unknown, he immediately felt something like a hypnic jerk worse than the worst portkey trip. No long tunnel. No feeling of peace, or even Hellish terror for that matter, just pure confusion as he entered a separate reality. A new reality. Harry was now one with Eternity.

The first thing he saw were millions of little pinpricks as far as his eyes could wander, as if he were peering through Swiss cheese. He realized immediately that they were actually stars. Shaking his head with disbelief and embarrassment, he now saw planets perform their gorgeous celestial ballet. He witnessed comets & asteroids & meteoroids, which were all impossibly vast distances away, rocketing on their fateful paths into what a Harry in another timeline would so aptly refer to as the one true everlasting Silent Night. It was glorious.

Harry could now see everything around him all at once for eons into perpetuity, including at both the quantum realm as well at the cosmic level. He could now hear infinite numbers of conversations occurring all over the universe at once, like the melodic singing of insects in summer. He could _feel_ their thoughts, their hopes and dreams and loves both lost and regained. Every birth. Every death. Every moment of discovery. He was now transformed both in body and mind into something more, something ethereal and sublime, like an angel. He was now one with all that existed. The only time that he had ever felt something so close to a spiritual reawakening like this was when he had first visited Diagon Alley, but even that was a poor comparison, like comparing going to the Great Wall of China with your first visit to McDonald's.

Raising his hand to his chest, Harry felt his face. Still warm. He touched his chest. Still beating. He stamped his feet. The echo of his trainers reverberated everywhere somehow, despite not touching any solid ground. He didn't feel physically any different, but yet, he was different. Nobody alive could be feeling what he was, and then realized that he was in space. Fucking outer space. A comet was traversing right by him now. It had been so close that he could have jumped out and rode on it Slim Pickins' in Doctor Strangelove style, but he chose not to.

Harry didn't know about to feel about this. He floated around in the void of space, not needing to walk anymore, floored by the confirmation that "Yes Virginia, there is an afterlife". He thought back to the Dursley's. Neither Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were particularly religious, but Uncle Vernon liked to make degrading dinner table jokes amounting to "Well, we know where the boy is going to when he kicks the bucket. Witchcraft is a sin".

The moment when Harry had become fully aware of his new fate was when everything changed again. A loud cracking sound, like a thunderstorm, erupted directly above Harry's head, and he felt a tremendous force carry him up, up, up...

 **HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP**

" _Holy shit_ " he said to himself in his usual British understatement. " _Is this_ _Heaven?_ ".

All around Harry, pandemonium reigned. Being in space had been perspective shattering enough, but this was positively psychedelic, A swirling postmodern confusion of colliding esoteric concepts and things too bizarre to call real now surrounded the boy wizard, as if the universe itself were tripping on a combination of LSD and Klatchian coffee. It hurt his eyes just to look at some of the...shapes, for lack of a better word, that passed by his line of sight. It was astonishing and terrifying all at once, in a David Lynchian sort of way. Or more accurately, it was like watching what poor David Bowman had to witness during the Star Gate sequence from 2001: A Space Odyssey.

" _My god, it's full of stars"_ Harry quipped to himself silently, just to keep his sanity. He desperately wanted to go back to space and feel that emptiness inside of him be refilled again.

" _ **Whatever gave you the idea that you were in Heaven, Mr. Potter?"**_

Harry didn't need to turn around. Surrounding him in every direction, seemingly millions strong, were an army of identical looking women with dark hair, olive green skin, and no pupils.

He pulled out his wand from his pocket like a coiled snake and pointed it at one of the clones threateningly. He knew that this was useless, but he did it anyway.

" _ **Please, put that down"**_ said the threatened woman with serenity. _**"Search your feelings. You know that I will not hurt you."**_

Harry indeed felt an odd peace from this woman, despite this bizarre place.

" _Who are you?_ he asked to the woman.

" _ **I am Oshtur. I existed before everything you knew existed, and I will exist after everything you know has died. Welcome to my home, Harry Potter."**_

" _Are you God?"_ asked Harry, genuinely curious.

" _ **A lower case one, yes."**_ admitted the woman humbly.

" _That's humble of you to say_ " said Harry. " _For a divine being, anyway._ "

The legion of women, all at once, gave a soft, sarcastic laugh that indicated a degree of warmth and love. In an instant that had even made Harry, a wizard, blanch, all of them immediately merged into a single woman,

" _ **Are you thinking of the delusions that Tom Riddle has of being a god?"**_

" _Yes"_ said Harry. _"But many other men and women also think that they are gods, too."_

" _ **They are mistaken, Harry, every single one of them"**_ said Oshtur gently

" _Tell me about it. So, is this death?"_

" _ **Do you have wax between your ears, Harry? I said that this was my home. I don't live in Heaven."**_

" _Lady, this place may not have white, puffy clouds and people in white strumming harps, but it sure seems a lot like Heaven to me."_

" _ **Would it be lost on you, young wizard, to say that there are more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy?"**_

" _It would be too cliché, but fair enough. There's a lot that humans don't know about still, even wizards."_

" _ **Would you like to take a walk with me, Harry?"** asked Oshtur, extending her olive green skinned hand, glowing with supernatural golden radiance. _

" _Do I have a choice?"_

" _ **You always have choices, Harry. Always. Always."**_

 _The astral form of Harry Potter glided over to the mysterious and serene goddess and walked with her._

 **HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP**

1995

 _The Ministry of Magic, Earth_

Like all cowards before him, and all cowards after him, Lord Voldemort blew the scene once he realized that he could not win. Riddle simply could not overpower old man Dumbledore in a straight fight, though he was quick to remind himself that although Dumbledore possessed the unbeatable Elder Wand, he had still kept the duel to a standstill. Once Voldemort removed the old man's crutch, the Dark Lord's immense control over sorcery would make him unstoppable. He went back to his lair to jerk off to fantasies about what he was going to do when he could start openly exterminating Muggleborns.

The Aurors had indeed arrived minutes after the duel was over, though they had little to do but clean up the mess that had been made and assist the children

Meanwhile, Hermione Granger stood staring at the Veil for a good five minutes after most of her comrades had already left, transfixed by what she was seeing, or what she thought see was seeing, inside of it.

Professor Remus Lupin walked quietly up behind the young student, the star pupil of this generation of Hogwarts children, and he gave a polite cough.

Hermione jumped.

"Young lady, you know what they say about those who stare into the abyss for too long."

She winced briefly at the sudden interruption of her sorrow, and then sighed at the repeated pithy bit of wisdom. She didn't turn around.

"Professor" she said in a low, sad voice. "I feel like I've done something wrong. Something terrible."

"Hermione, it couldn't be any worse than what has happened tonight. Now where's Harry? I didn't see him when the Headmaster chased away You Know Who."

"Harry...his godfather died tonight. Sirius. You know how close they were, right?"

"Of course I do" said Remus, already not liking where this was going.

"Harry...he had always told me late at night in the commons about his life, about how he wanted to end it all, and that he only need justification. Just one good excuse that would push him over the edge for good. The problem is, Harry had sworn me to secrecy about it. He made me not tell anybody. It went against every instinct I had, and now he's gone."

Remus heard Hermione begin to cry and went to comfort her.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Notes: Hey there, readers! So it's been about two months since I've updated this story, and I felt really guilty about leaving you guys wondering if I had abandoned this before it even got going. Not the case at all! I've been spending most of July and August working on the next two chapters of this story, and I just want them to be absolutely perfect for you guys, so I can't guarantee when they will be posted. When they are, I promise you that you will love them. So much happens all at once. The chapters first of all will be much longer, at least twenty pages in length if not more. Also, Harry goes on his first adventure in his journey to find Sirius, and I and will open up a side of the Marvel Cinematic Universe which so far hasn't been seen. But for now, I wrote a little something off the cuff just to tide you all over. Please let me know what you think in the form of reviews!_

 _ **CHAPTER 2: We Are The Ones, The Ones You Left Behind**_

" _I love it when a plan comes together!"- John "Hannibal" Smith- The A-Team_

1995

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Albus Dumbledore was having an existential crisis.

Last night his former student, the inimitably evil Tom Riddle, had his coming out party by casting the first shot in the Second Wizarding War, a conflict which everyone said they didn't want but everyone and their grandmother had spent the last fifteen years preparing for. Forgive the massive understatement, but this was not good news. Innocent people, wizard, Muggle, and non-human alike, were now going to suffer and die for absolutely no good reason. People _will_ be tortured. People _will_ be driven to madness or at least the very brink of despair. People _will_ lose their entire livelihoods and sense of purpose for living. Brother _will_ turn against brother, and most of them will be scarred for life when they are forced to kill in order to defend themselves and their families. It _will_ be a long, protracted war of attrition, filled with tears and gnashing of teeth, and even if the good guys won, it could very well cripple the Wizarding World for good. What was it that great, laconic Muggle King Phyrrus had once said? Oh yes: "If we are victorious in one more battle with the Romans, we shall be utterly ruined." So it would be with the final death of the Death Eaters. The worst part was the almost Ragnarokesque inevitably of it. This war had been a long time coming, and its delay would allow the rot beneath wizarding society to fester into a cancerous, toxic cocktail of hate that was worse than any potion brewed by Severus Snape. The most that Albus or any reasonable person could hope for was that when the survivors began to pick up the pieces during reconstruction, they would learn to not despise each other so much afterwards. Yeah, like that was going to happen.

On the other hand, the _Daily Prophet_ 's coverage of the dreadful duel between him and Tom at the Ministry of Magic the previous evening had provided the perfect distraction for a much more dreadful piece of news: Harry Potter was missing. Harry Potter, the one boy in all the world, chosen by fate, who could stop Riddle's reign of terror...somehow, he had vanished from Dumbledore's radar. He was officially off the chess board.

Albus refused to use the word "dead". He couldn't say that Harry had died last night. Not until it was confirmed by the Unspeakables, and Albus had good reason to believe that the Chosen One's apparent suicide attempt wasn't the final end of the troubled young boy who had been thrust against his will into greatness. Nothing was impossible with magic.

Nevertheless, burdened by his carefully constructed house of cards seemingly about to collapse all around him, Albus briefly rested his head on his outstretched hands. He thought of crying at the possibility of Voldemort actually winning, but Albus had come from another generation where men did not cry, so he kept it to himself. He had to keep himself composed. After all, guests were arriving.

Minerva McGonagall's head appeared through the fireplace.

"Miss Granger is ready to see you."

Albus smirked.

"Good. Bring them up."

"Of course. We'll be present momentarily."

As he waited, Albus sighed forlornly. The previous night, when Remus Lupin and Hermione Granger had informed him of the bad news about Harry's leap of faith, he was led to believe that Harry's impaired mental state was somehow _his_ fault. As if he were the villain of this story and not Tom Riddle and his gang of bigoted thugs. Miss Granger's sanctimonious and dare he say hysterical chewing out of him came as something of a shock. Couldn't the brightest witch of her age see that what he was doing to Harry was for the greater good? Did she not realize that this was the worst time to have a divided house? If he were a less kind man, he would have called Miss Granger a useful idiot, the term Vladmir Lenin used to describe American Socialist Party members earlier in the century. In general, it described a person who unwittingly helps the other side of a war by caring more about justice than winning. War was the antithesis of fairness and justice, and if you allow the enemy to have a platform, eventually they will only take it away from you. Countless millions of men, women, and children had sacrificed their own happiness for the greater good in the past, so what tragedy is one more, especially one as privileged as Harry Potter?

In his mindspace, Albus the great wizard was considering the possibility that he had become too Machivellian in his old age. The guilt that he was experiencing as he recalled Granger's face, full of despair and righteous anger on behalf of her friend weighed heavily on his mind, recalling his brother Aberforth at their sister Ariana's funeral. He made some pious remark and blew Abe off because he didn't want to acknowledge that his brother was right.. Albus's vast intelligence allowed him to rationalize virtually every decision he has ever made, but when he couldn't, he was beginning to realize that instead of swallowing his pride, he just ran away.

 _Not since Gellert have I felt this conflicted..._

There were four loud knocks on the front door to Dumbledore's office, buoyed by the perpetual chatter of teenage conversation.

"Enter" he said serenely.

One by one, the four guests entered.

Minerva McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor House, entered the room first. She carried a solemn and world weary expression on her face implying that she had seen too much crap in her life, although to be fair, she always looked that way. Following her inside was Hermione Granger who appeared anxious and impatient if her labored breathing meant anything. Perhaps Minerva in her younger years was the same way before life beat her down. Following both of them wasRon Weasley, who Miss Granger said that she refused to leave Hogwarts without. Ron looked exhausted after the previous night's events at the Ministry and just as bewildered as to why he was in the Headmaster's office. His eyes darted all around the office at the sounds of Dumbledore's array of gizmos. Finally, there was Harry Potter, the man of the hour, his face grinning and his bespectacled eyes grinning with a cocksure attitude.

"Welcome" said Albus Dumbledore, keeping a stiff upper lip by hiding his own anxiety, fatigue and exhaustion. "Tonks, you're among friends, you don't have to disguise yourself anymore."

"Oh, thank Merlin. I was starting to feel sick hearing these kids all day and their bloody relationship problems" said a mezzo-soprano female voice.

The Harry Potter doppelganger morphed immediately into the lovely shape of Nymphadora Tonks, the young Metamorphmagus who had been working as Dumbledore's spy at the Ministry. Ron's eyes widened as large a Margaret Keane painting.

"What the bloody hell, 'Mione?" he asked naively, turning to face his tentative girlfriend. "I just took a piss break with Harry, and it was Tonks the entire time!?"

"Language, Mr. Weasley!" shouted McGonagall.

"Yes, Ron, it was me" said Tonks, mildly apologetic. "I didn't like it either. Boys bathrooms are disgusting."

"But we were talking about penis size!"

"I, um, I had to stay in character" Tonks gulped guiltily.

McGonagall looked apoplectic.

Hermione grabbed Ron's shoulder, and indicated that he should sit down, which he did. All of them did.

"Mr. Weasley" began Dumbledore, "you're the only person here who's not yet in the know, so I will be blunt. Last night, your confidant Harry jumped into the Veil at the Department of Mysteries."

When it was made clear by his confused expression that Ron didn't know what that was, Dumbledore continued.

"There is a room in the Department of Mysteries charmingly referred to as the Death Chamber, where the Unspeakables study all the mysteries that surround this plane of existence and what comes afterward. Inside this Death Chamber is a relic from a day long passed that is simply called The Veil.. Even I don't know how old it is, where it came from, who created it, or otherwise. It is a complete and total mystery to everyone just as much the Voynich Manuscript is to the Muggles. What we do know is that The Veil is a barrier between this world and...and somewhere else. We don't know where it leads to, but no one who has stepped through it has ever returned, so we have to assume that it is a point of no return. A one stop destination that leads to death."

At first, Ron didn't say anything, but eventually, he asked: "The one that Harry's godfather fell into?"

"The same."

"And...you're saying Harry stepped through it too?" muttered Ron, his pale Irish complexion paling just a touch further, his facial muscles now exhibiting the same sort of subtle dread that everyone else in the room was also featuring.

Dumbledore solemnly nodded his head.

"So he's dead" repeated Ron. "I...and you don't want anybody else to know about it. That's why Tonks is here pretending that she was Harry the whole time."

Dumbledore nodded once again. He spoke:

"It is imperative that nobody know about this. _Nobody_. Harry Potter is more than just a boy, more than just our friend. He is a symbol of all that stands in the way between freedom and tyranny, between joy and terror, between life and death. If word were to get out that this happened, it would only embolden the very same Death Eaters you yourself so valiantly fought against last night. Knowing that his only foe is vanquished, Tom Riddle would begin openly committing genocide on all that he considers beneath him, as would his acolytes."

Ron gulped in fear, and Hermione grabbed his hand in an embrace.

"Merlin help me. I'm only fifteen years old here, I never asked for this!"

"It's going to be alright, Ronald" she said, looking straight into his eyes. "We have a plan in place."

"A plan?!" Ron shrieked. "We had a plan last night, and look how far that got us! Even bloody Dumbledore had to retreat!"

Dumbledore's own eyes twinkled at that statement. Before Hermione and Tonks were about to protest Ron's statement that minus the dreadful news about Harry, the raid at the Ministry had been a complete success for the Order, the Headmaster butted in:

"I wouldn't call what I have in mind a plan so much as an experiment, Miss Granger. We are in uncharted territory here. Never before has the entire sanctity of a civilization literally rested on one person's shoulders. Now Mister Weasley, you do yourself a disservice. I believe you to be much brighter than you or your Professors or even your own family give yourself credit for. Between Harry the Hero and Hermione the Genius, you seem to have little use in this little trio of yours, but I disagree. I think that you will be very useful to what is about to transpire. Before I explain to you anything further, tell me your thoughts on what the Order should do. Remember that we are at war."

"I...I don't like being put on the spot like this" stuttered the young redhead.

"Perfectly understandable. I asked because I consider you brave. If I recall correctly, you helped save the school and your friend's lives during your first year, did you not? And you helped exonerate Mr. Hagrid during your second year, is that not true? You ventured with Harry into the realm of arcomantulas despite your crippling fear of spiders all to save one man's life. A boy with that kind of tenacity is exactly the kind we need right now."

"So what are you asking me to do?"

"I'm asking you what we need to do to rescue Harry."

Ron sunk in his chair even lower than he already was, embarrassed that every eye was on him, even Fawkes. With a heavy dramatic sigh, he began to speak:

"My D-dad always said that war was all about making the hard choices. When there isn't any easy way out, you show what kind of person you really are underneath. That it was easy to be a hero when you were holding two Queens in your hand, but it's when you've got nothing but two pawns defending is when you show what kind of player you really are. He said that real heroes choose to do the r-right thing even when you're in an impossible situation. That you do the right thing even when it breaks your heart to do so, when it makes no fucking sense to d-do so. You sacrifice yourself so nobody else gets h-has to get hurt. Sorry for cursing, Headmaster."

Tonks laughed bitterly and McGonagall's eyes looked like she wanted to deduct ten points from Gryffindor just on general principle, but Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle. "Under the circumstances, swearing is a natural choice to make, Ron. Pray, continue. I admire your sentiments."

"Uh, yeah" muttered Ron. "I...I'm in shock as this, Headmaster, but if it were me, the brave thing that I would do is try and pull Harry back from the dead somehow. I would send a team in through this Veil and go and rescue him."

Dumbledore for the first time smiled brightly.

"And that is exactly what the Order intends to do."

 ** **HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP****

2012

 _GRUENELLO NATIONAL PARK, SECTOR 979, GALADOR_

Gruenello National Park, named after the mythical hero Gru the Wanderer of the Aragones First Nations people who countless eons ago inhabited this part of the planet, was a nature lover's paradise. Situated in the southern half of the planet, and encompassing over two million square miles, the sheer amount of diversity of flora and fauna present was remarkable and noted throughout the cosmos as a must see locale. Animals and plants which might have gone extinct hundreds of thousands of years ago were still alive and in full bloom, most of them having been painstakingly preserved by Galadorian naturalists to near perfection. Even those that _had_ gone extinct had been recreated via the miracle of genetic engineering, mostly without incident. If Christians of Earth who imagined what the Garden of Eden must have been like were dropped into this apotheosis of a national park, many would assume that they had been transported back to the beginning of time. Given that Galador dwelled deep within the Triangulum Galaxy, which was close to three million light years away from the pale blue dot that we call home, most Earthlings unfortunately wouldn't be visiting this oasis of tranquility anytime soon.

Good thing Harry Potter wasn't most people.

A sourceless wind rose throughout a secluded section of forest. Accompanying it was a strange, unearthly droning sound. The mysterious wind blew leaves and twigs in every direction. A small domestic animal similar in appearance to an Alpine marmot yowled at the enigmatic event, and scurried away from the spot where it had just relieved itself.

The droning sound intensified, and with it, a bubble made of pure mystical energy appeared out of thin air. The eerie, haunting melody finally diminished, and the mystical bubble, which was azure and yellow in color, abruptly popped, leaving a confused but determined young hero panting on the ground. This hero lifted himself up and dusted his clothes off as he gazed at the unfamiliar terrain that laid before him. He may as well been deep in the Forbidden Forest back at Hogwarts for all he knew. Then again, he didn't expect this place to be familiar. Shutting his eyes briefly to center himself, Harry Potter concentrated on the facts at hand. Within the last hour, he had survived death itself. He had become one with the universe. He had just stared down a trio of unimaginably powerful beings and won. Now, he didn't know where the hell he was and was lost in a primeval land of enchantment. Harry didn't care. He was ready to take back his life and take back what belonged to him. Nothing, **nothing** , was going to stop him from reuniting with his godfather.

To Be Continued...


End file.
